Co La

When Baltimore art-school grad Matthew Papich got sick of just playing guitar in a band, he started sampling all sorts of songs-- reggae, Motown, rockabilly-- and creating uncanny loop-based music as Co La.

Matthew Papich resents his guitar. As a member of the Baltimore avant-rock duo Ecstatic Sunshine alongside Dustin Wong of the recently disbanded Ponytail, Papich exhausted his relationship with the instrument, reaching a point where he constantly feared that his chord progressions sounded too familiar. So he ditched the six strings altogether and started creating music as Co La using the loop-based music software Ableton Live.

The 28-year-old musician, who graduated from Baltimore's Maryland Institute College of Art, speaks about the music he makes as Co La with the fresh-headed optimism of a relieved divorcé. When he isn't working as an art handler in Baltimore, he wakes up early and goes through a methodical process of sorting through songs-- old reggae, 1960s girl-group pop, rockabilly, and more-- before splicing, rearranging, and looping them to form his own tracks. The process results in slightly alien tunes that still manage to retain the underlying warmth of their sources; listening to Co La is like hearing a familiar pop song spoken in tongues.

Over the last year, Papich has put out three Co La cassettes, along with this month's proper debut LP, Daydream Repeater. We recently spoke with him about how his lifestyle mimics his music, why he serves champagne at live shows, and living in a post-glow Baltimore.

Pitchfork: Repetition is a cornerstone of your music; what drew you to repetitive sounds?

Matthew Papich: At the beginning, I dug really deep into ambient music, all the way back to Satie, through Eno. I listened to it almost every day, and even let it affect my lifestyle. There are all these Satie pieces that are made for banal occasions like luncheons or a civil wedding-- they balance the repetition of the everyday into something that could become spiritual. I've got this house in Baltimore, and my housemates are also artists. It's like an ambient life residency.

Daydream Repeater cover:

Pitchfork: What's a day in the "ambient life residency" like?

MP: It's not so much about repetition like, "I have coffee every morning at 7 a.m." It's more about repeatedly interacting with the space that I'm living in-- the way the furniture is moved and the lighting has changed homes in on something. The house is a good place to have large dinner parties, and that makes space change, too.

Pitchfork: It's funny that you mention dinner parties, because I get a waltzy Great Gatsby vibe from songs like "Raining in My Heart".

MP: Totally. During the Co La performances, I've gotten two friends who are actually banquet servers to serve champagne on trays from the back of the room-- it's a gesture to the people who aren't directly engaged with dancing to the music. If I can subsidize buying the champagne with the payment I'll get from the show, I think that's a really democratic gesture. It brings down the exclusiveness of the champagne. I've also been doing a piece for one of the songs where I eat peaches on the stage. During another track, I open a box of tissues and take all of them out, one at a time.

Pitchfork: Baltimore had a pretty big indie moment a few years ago. What's the scene like there now?

MP: During that moment where Baltimore music was most popular, there were only really a couple of bands [doing big things]. Now there's much, much more music here, but fewer people are getting up to that level. Maybe there are more people happy to just produce their music and play some shows and make a cassette.

When I was in school [at Maryland Institute College of Art], there was a class that was a painting credit, but the real assignment was to start a band. Except the teacher chose your bandmates based on your vibe and how you looked. Ponytail started that way.

It's sad, all these Baltimore "band" bands that played on stages with drums and guitars are breaking up. Ponytail is broken up. Double Dagger is broken up. At the same time, I think it opens up this really interesting vacuum.